


Berceuse

by Naiesu



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword
Genre: Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-14 09:14:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5738008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naiesu/pseuds/Naiesu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Link fell back and sat on his haunches, looking around. Everything was the same, as per usual. The sweet scent surrounding him, the thin air he found so much more pleasant to breathe, the open space the Surface couldn't hold a candle to.</p>
<p>However, the Watchers waving their chiming lanterns while the Guardians stood a silent vigil, the ominous cerulean flush the Sky had taken to, and the lilting yet eerie lament was not from Skyloft.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Berceuse

**Author's Note:**

> Little spin on the Silent Realm trials

"Master, if you are lost, I would suggest dowsing to find the location of the next Siren Realm’s entrance."

But Link knew where it was located. It wouldn't be placed anywhere for aesthetic—not in front of the Statue of the Goddess, though that's where he would have figured it. No, it would be somewhere where he could get his bearings early on without fear of the Guardians. Was that not how the other Protective Circles had been placed? Strategically cast in such a way that it would be so simple yet so incredibly difficult at the same time.

The plaza.

Goddess Butterflies drifted on the soft breeze the open area allowed, and Link permitted a faint smile. Why did gentle creatures cluster around such a volatile creation?

Fi's faint pulsing died off slowly on his back as he closed in on the marks the ground was now marred with—the array of blues that now permeated the air.

She spun out of her sword, and he ducked, afraid of getting kicked (again). "Master, shall we begin?"

Of course. One step closer to releasing Zelda from her prison. To saving the Surface—the Sky, even.

"Yes—" Fingers faltered on their way to grasping his harp, and a stray string was plucked. Fi stared on, ever patient.

Who would watch him? What if someone walked up and thought something was wrong, or tried to wake him? What would happen? He imagined Fi might try to fend them off, but he couldn't let her hurt an innocent Skyloftian.

"Hold on, Fi." He drew his hand back, observing their surroundings. Gully and Parrow were watching with wide eyes, their shock at the appearance of Fi obvious in their stiff body language and the way their eyes followed her every move. "I need to find someone."

"As you wish, Master." She disappeared into his sword in a flash, but he was more preoccupied.

Who would do an acceptable job watching over him, or would even do it at all? Stritch was out on his bug island and probably refused to leave now; Cawlin hated him after he gave that hand in the toilet his love letter to Karane; Groose was down on the Surface, and that was more of a hassle than it was worth; Keet was just about useless unless it came to Kina; Parrow maybe—?

Pipit.

His eyes drifted up to the sun. They were nearing sunset, but Pipit was being released from his nightshift now that Link had rid Skyloft of the monsters that pestered the citizens after-hours.

He waved at the people who offered greetings as he passed. He was in no mood to chat, and he hoped he made that obvious.

"Hey, Pipit!”

The brunette turned at the sound of his name, grinning and waving while Link neared. "Hi! How've you been, Link?"

"Fine, fine." He brushed off the welcoming words, beckoning for Pipit to follow. "Pipit, I need you to help me out with something."

It was apparent that Pipit hadn't been needed for a while, for he straightened up, chest puffing out somewhat. "The newbie needs help, eh?”

Newbie? What was Link a newbie at—? Oh, that was right. He had just passed the test to become a Knight before...everything. Well, Link was certain he had done more for the citizens of Skyloft than the actual Knights were doing.

"Sure." He rolled his eyes.

When they arrived at the plaza, Pipit sat his hands on his hips, still big and haughty as he surveyed the area. "Something in the Sky you thought was odd? Maybe something at night? Or—"

Link shook his head, waving his hand again. When had he become all business and no play? "I need you to make sure nobody bothers me."

Pipit furrowed his eyebrows, bristling. "You call that helping? Link, this is—"

Link had already pulled out his lyre. "—not the Pipit way, _I know_. Listen, you don't even need to call it help. I'll pay you."

Pipit's shoulder's tensed, lips twisting. Link knew how much he needed the Rupees, what with how frivolously his mother loved to blow their money.

Also considering Link had been paid by her multiple times.

There was an internal conflict raging in Pipit's eyes, and Link made sure he was just as patient as Fi had been with him not minutes before. He knew Pipit would relent given time. There was nothing for him to buy any longer, and now Link had an abundance of Rupees, so paying Pipit graciously was no problem with him.

"What say you to about 3,500 Rupees?" He plucked a few strings that sang a tune familiar to the song he played with Kina at the Lumpy Pumpkin.

Pipit gulped. "I...I suppose. Why am I making sure nobody bothers you?"

"I'm going to do a test, and I don't know what will happen if somebody messes with me." He shrugged.

"A test?"

"Don't worry yourself with it too much."

After a few more exchanged words, a payment that left his wallet feeling much too light, and an ancient tune on his lyre, Link stood over the entrance to the last Siren Realm.

He eyed Pipit one last time. "Don't let anyone near me, alright?"

Pipit nodded, gaze flickering to Fi.

Link raised his sword up, bracing himself, and thrust it into the ground.

In a way it tickled—having his spirit torn from his body. But it also hurt more than he could possibly imagine, and though he tried to scream, he could never make a sound.

When he opened his eyes, he was staring at his hands from his position crouched down on his knees. Blue was the color of this Siren Realm. He lifted his hand from the ground, and flipped it to examine his palm, turning it this way and that to watch it shimmer.

Link fell back and sat on his haunches, looking around. Everything was the same, as per usual. The sweet scent surrounding him, the thin air he found so much more pleasant to breathe, the open space the Surface couldn't hold a candle to.

However, the Watchers waving their chiming lanterns while the Guardians stood a silent vigil, the ominous cerulean flush the Sky had taken to, and the lilting yet eerie lament was not from Skyloft.

"Master."

Though he knew he would not see her, Link craned his neck, eyes cast upwards to watch the clouds.

"As you know, I cannot follow you into the Siren Realm. You are on your own until you return. Would you like an explanation of what needs to be done?"

"No, thank you." He stretched out his legs, and leaned back on his hands, gazing at a distant Watcher as it floated back and forth on a set path. "How is everything out there?"

"The human—Pipit—has been displaying signs of severe distress since your departure. Perspiring, fidgeting, and pacing among other things. I believe your people call this discomfort."

He laughed. "Nobody has bothered me?"

"No one."

Link laid flat, and folded his arms behind his head, noting with some interest that there was another Watcher above him. "Thank you, Fi."

"Do you require anything else?"

"No," he chuckled. She was always so worried about his welfare. More so than Zelda, even.

"I will be awaiting your return, Master."

And she was silent.

The Voices called to him, sang and crooned. Caressed his soul with tender words, and eased his fears. He wanted to stand, to run out of the Protective Circle and into their embrace.

He had learned better.

A ruse. It wasn't called the Siren Realm for nothing. The Watchers flocked the moment his toes touched the masonry outside of the runes he lay in.

It was certainly no use lounging around (unfortunately he knew no rest would be found here), so Link stood and stretched, surveying yet again. There could be a Tear on the lighthouse, but he wouldn't risk it with the Watcher swaying to and fro around the ladder to the rhythm of the song surrounding him.

Every contour of Skyloft was emblazoned in his mind, and he could see almost every gate from where he stood. The Isle of the Goddess was cut off, so that was narrowing everything down. Easier for him.

His best bet was to go for the Tear right in front of him, and then the chase was on.

So he ran.

The Voices screamed. Screamed to run, but not towards the Tear he so desperately wanted. Their influence made his footsteps hesitant as they pulled him closer to the Guardians, go to the Guardians—the Guardians were there to _help_. Link wanted it to stop. It hurt his head. He wanted to clamp his hands over his ears, but he grabbed the Tear instead.

The change in tone was immediate. The red hue that stained his vision cleared to a watery blue once more, and the Voices softened in their call to allow him a brief moment of respite. The club inches from his face pulled back, and the Guardian towering over him returned to its position by the bazaar.

Link's footsteps were shaky when he walked towards the ancient white fruit growing between cracks in the plaza's path. He plucked it from its vines with practiced care, and placed it to his lips, squeezing the juice from its confines.

Beams in shades of neon blue shot to the heavens, and Link trotted to the farthest side of Skyloft. He had no idea what the fruit was, but it had helped him many times, and he wasn't about to question it.

He stopped at the bridge leading to Skyloft's Residential Quarter. A Watcher patrolled with a robotic determination, but it was surpassed with ease. Link glanced towards the graveyard, catching a glimpse of another Watcher. He should probably grab that Tear.

Passing the Guardians always filled him with a sense of dread, and though he knew they wouldn't react (even if he messed with them), he pressed himself against Gondo’s house, and sidled its edges.

There was in fact a Tear near the back of the graveyard, and getting to it had been easy. A well timed jump, and he grabbed it. Getting out, Link figured, would be more difficult.

He made sure to stay out of the Watcher's line of sight, and out of its lantern's glow. Once he had timed it, he ran and jumped.

His heart skipped when he heard startled chiming and saw a white light nipping at his heels, so Link sprinted. But where? How far would it chase him?

The Voices sang, piercing his mind, and this time he did cover his ears. It did nothing but give him the little bit of comfort he could draw from this realm—that he was still here and intact.

Sudden still made him slow, and he noticed that he had run much further than he had intended. The Watcher had ended its chase, but now he stood in front of multiple Watchers, all gyrating in time.

A Tear sat in the middle of all of them, and he slumped somewhat, listening to the Voices coo. No way around this.

After watching for a few more seconds to make sure he had the pattern memorized, Link darted into the circle and grabbed the Tear, standing completely still. The Watchers circled him, oblivious to all but the song they waltzed to.

He rolled out of their circle, and took a small breather. This place was worse than all the other Siren Realms. Eldin had been awful, sure, but this was just insane.

Link shook his head, resigning himself to his fate, and set off to a slow trot, grabbing another white fruit on the way. Another Tear by Sparrot's house?

He ducked his head in the small space between the houses, and when he detected no danger, he walked through. There was a Guardian back there, so it settled the pit in his stomach. There were no safe places in a Siren Realm, and the Guardian by the Tear was enough to prove that.

The Voices were raising in pitch and volume, and the pit in Link's stomach returned. He was running out of time.

He grabbed the Tear, breathing a sigh of relief when the cries settled. This side of the island was done, then.

He turned and walked back through the arch between the houses. He should probably go to the waterfall next...

The cries resumed, blue steeping to a deep red.

Why? There was no Watcher, and he wasn't out of time—!

When Link tried to run, he stumbled, finding his feet trapped in a thick sludge. He hadn't seen the Waking Water.

The word 'no' was a silent mantra on his lips and in his head. He could find another Tear, and get out of this. He had planned for something like this, and there was a Tear by the Bazaar, he _just had to get out of the Waking Water_.

Link's vision shook with the Voices' song. If he could bleed in this realm, he wished his ears would do so, and just stop working already.

He had known why they were getting louder. He knew—he just didn't want to admit it.

So when the glinting blade of a Guardian was forced through his abdomen, it was hardly a surprise. Hardly, but it still hurt. Hurt because this was not his body, it was Link's soul that was being torn apart now. He wanted to scream along with the Voices, but his shrieks were ever silent.

The Voices died off to a lulling berceuse, and when his head hit the cold pavement, it was his real body that had fallen. His real body that he had let break.

He couldn't feel the grass growing through the broken stones of the Plaza. Couldn't smell the sweet scent of the flowers that only grew on Skyloft, or the pumpkin pies that Wryna cooked in the evening. Couldn't taste the air of the Sky that he always yearned for on the Surface.

But Link could hear the Voices sing their rapture. He had longed to hear their true song since the moment he stepped into Farore's Siren Realm and heard them beckon him, and he had finally been graced with their lullaby. He stared on at the flickering changes between an array of colors and a violent crimson, listening to their song as the _Watchers_ ~~Skyloftians~~ flitted around him restlessly. And now he understood why they were so pleased. They had garnered what they craved so desperately.

The fallen Hero.


End file.
